


Clouds in my Coffee

by Alistra (ALeaseInWonderland)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Chance Meetings, F/M, May Parker-centric, Missing Scene, POV Alternating, Sins of the Past, aunts come in all shapes and sizes you know, waking young but feeling old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALeaseInWonderland/pseuds/Alistra
Summary: Single-parenting is a tough, tiresome and more often than not thankless gig; especially so if you aren't even the kid's actual parent.In other words: sometimes, just sometimes, not everything is about Tony Stark.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man)/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Clouds in my Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gsparkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gsparkle/gifts).



> In the comics, Aunt May is related to Peter only through marriage to his uncle Ben, but I did a switcheroo here to make her his father's sister. Suspend your disbelief. 
> 
> Big thanks to CloudAtlas who is a star. Also a magnificent beta. Dedicated to gsparkle, for spark(l)ing this idea in the first place and for her endless amusement when it comes to misbehaving protagonists.

Tony had had better days, and that was putting it mildly. Ross was breathing down his neck about the Accords, Cap had gone off chasing his psychopathic murderer BFF, and the Avengers had been dissolved in all but in name. Everything was a _Mess_. 

The last thing he wanted to be doing was to go knocking on this particular door, Tony thought as he rode the elevator in an unremarkable apartment building in Queens. Even in the scratched surface of the lift's metal cabin, the dark ring of his black eye dominated his reflection. _Desperate times, desperate measures_ , he reminded himself, hiding the worst of the damage behind his latest pair of stylish dark glasses. With a deep breath, he passed the sliding doors and rapped sharply on the second door to the left. 

He'd keep the kid out of trouble, really. From what he had seen on surveillance cameras throughout the city, the boy was fast and could hold his own against surprising things; he'd be out of harm's way in no time. There were vague noises behind the door and a woman's voice muttering something that sounded faintly like, " _Did you forget your keys_?" as a bolt slid back.

There really was no reason to feel bad about any of this, Tony reminded himself, all he needed the kid for was the added element of...

A beautiful, strangely familiar brunette opened the door, eyes widening as she took him in. 

"Tony-?" May Parker noticed herself staring, visibly shook herself out of it, and ended up offering him a charmingly rueful grin. "-Stark. You're- That's you. I'm sorry, you caught me by surprise. Can't say that superheroes are an everyday occurrence around here."

The _Charming the Pants off Anyone_ -smile still came as easy as breathing and Tony took off his tinted glasses for added effect. 

"Are you sure?" he stage-whispered. "Most of my work associates rather cherish their secretive ways. You wouldn't _believe_ the places I have stumbled across assorted spies or Norse deities. Have you checked the pantry? Doors and corners? Under your bed?" 

His mouth was talking on auto-pilot while he slyly glanced past her into the apartment. With sudden clarity he realized he was only a wink and a boyish smile away from gallantly offering to check her bedroom himself. Which, for the first time in years, was a thing he was allowed to do. Tony couldn't quite decide how he was feeling about this development. 

Not that this was the thing he should be concentrating on right at that minute, but he had always been good at multitasking. 

She was laughing good-naturedly at his terrible repartee - good. Let her believe he was joking. If ever he did decide to reveal what Team Delta got up to when they thought nobody was watching, it would only be to work through it with an expensive therapist. 

While his attention had been thus diverted, another part of his brain had continued the chit-chat, been offered a cup of tea and a slice of walnut-date loaf - for Darwin's sake - and accepted both. While " _Please, call me May,_ " puttered around in the open kitchen, Tony wracked his brain as to where he'd seen her before. The file that FRIDAY had compiled on the Spider Boy had only featured his aunt's DMV photo, whose bird's nest hair and confused expression had not done her justice. Right that moment she was smiling at him again with raised eyebrows, a sugar bowl in hand and obviously waiting for the answer to a question he'd missed. 

When he didn't reply right away, the smile morphed into amusement that clearly showed she'd caught him out. Which was when everything clicked into place. 

With absolute certainty, he remembered a particular party, although not what it had been in occasion of. Back in those years, he'd never stopped to care _why_ there was a party as long as there _was_ a party. May had been there too, he _knew_ this. He could remember her hair (short) and her dress (memorably shorter). 

He knew he'd wanted her then - in a juvenile, gratification-driven way - although the memory of whether he'd actually gotten that lucky was hazy, which wasn't much of a surprise. Not if one considered his track record with alcohol and other substances used to momentarily dampen a brain that was always running a couple of gears faster than most. 

Was there a tactful way to ask if they'd done it? 

With Pepper's help and the purpose the Avengers had given him, Tony had cured himself of the worst of his egotistical rampages, drunk one-night-stands and generally letting his id roam free. He'd been a good boy for such a long time, he'd forgotten why he'd stopped doing that type of thing.

It was not least because of this. These moments - of which he fervently wished he could say this was the first - where he wasn't sure exactly what drunken shenanigans he'd gotten up to. 

"So," Tony said, smiling brightly and turning as fully towards her as the stretch of sofa between them allowed, "here's an interesting conversational detour: you seem distractingly familiar. Did we once have sex in the staffroom of an expensive hotel with very overrated taste in decor? Some, say, fifteen-ish years ago?" 

May's smile froze in place and, for a long moment, she just looked at him. 

Sweat was beginning to pool at Tony's temples, his throat uncomfortably dry. 

Ever so slowly, her smile turned knowing and wicked.

"I thought the decor wasn't all that bad, actually," she said, and started pouring the tea.

**_Some, say, fifteen-ish years earlier..._ **

In 1997, the question as to how and where you were planning to ring in the new millennium was quickly becoming as much a staple of communication as saying hello.

And like a lot of people, May Parker had a definitive answer for this.

Fresh out of college, she had diligently put away every spare dollar from the two jobs she was working to afford to go to Europe. When the clocks of all those historical churches struck midnight, this independent young woman would be standing atop the Eiffel Tower and welcome the new year and her, without doubt, bright future with open arms.

Every time she put a dollar in the cheap shoebox with the French flag painted on its lid, she thought how grand the view would be. Every time her stomach grumbled because she forwent a snack to save the change, she thought of Parisian croissants and handsome waiters. Every time she closed her eyes at night she dreamt of walking the cobblestones of Montmartre.

Paris would be where she found her purpose, her direction; the inspiration to know what awaited her. She'd been with Ben since high school, since before either of them really knew what _being_ with anyone actually meant in practise, and they both knew that at some point, they were going to get married and have children and grow old together. It was a conscious and mutual decision to take a few months' break, to allow either of them a time of _rumspringa_ , make new experiences before tying the knot for good. No questions asked.

Both Ben and May were convinced it would work out, this was Love, with a capital L, and what could possibly happen in six months' time that would change that.

Something as mundane as an unknown drunk driver had not been anything they'd considered.

The year 1998 was only a few weeks old when the date night of May's big brother and her sister-in-law ended in a horrible and entirely preventable car crash.

Peter, their bright little toddler, was playing fireman, waving an empty juice box to put out imaginary fires on May's tie-dyed bedspread when the police arrived with the news.

And all of a sudden, Aunt May was thrust into the life of a single Mom.

Peter was a bright child, but since he was no longer just sleeping over, he was a 24/7 responsibility. His unbridled inquisitiveness had him prying behind wallpaper and submerging May's mini disc player in the bathtub just to see what would happen. At three years old, the boy was in the very midst of a defiant phase that seemed to require more patience than any sane person could be expected to muster. And the laundry, the never-ending amounts of laundry caused by grubby hands, tipped-over glasses and snot-addled sleeves.

Yet, at the same time, he was sweet as sugar, his face lighting up as he found joy in the most random things. The week he discovered the delight of whispering secrets, his own attempts wet, too close and often unpleasantly loud, his short arms would wrap around her neck and he'd lisp, "I love you, Aunt May."

These days went a long way in making up for the hardship.

  
  


"I don't think I can do this," May tiredly confided in a friend one night. 

Summer had succeeded the painful developments of early Spring and something on the breeze was already promising fall. Behind them in the other room, Peter had finally fallen asleep after a short eternity of restlessness.

The two women were sitting on the sill of the open living-room window, sharing a bottle of cheap wine and the luxury of a sneaky cigarette. Smoke curled in lazy tendrils into the night sky.

"If anyone can do it, it's you. What you do need though, is a day off," Jade said with conviction and, although the answer was already clear to both of them, she added the same question she did every time they met: "Have you called Ben yet?"

As always, May shook her head, "You know I can't put that on him, don't want him to feel obligated-"

"That's bullshit and you know it," Jade gently interrupted. "That man loves you, and he's always liked the boy. He wouldn't keep calling if he wasn't trying to support-"

"Can we stop talking about this? I know you mean well, but..." May trailed off miserably. 

Jade sighed and wrapped her arm tightly around her friend's shoulders. 

They sat silently for the remainder of the cigarette until finally, Jade tried again.

"Even if you won't talk to him just yet, you still need to get out some time. You need a break. Cut loose, have your _rumspringa_ , if only for one night."

May returned her friend's embrace but said nothing. She was craving catching a break too much to pretend otherwise.

Over the following days, Jade wouldn't let it rest, so one night in September, Peter was all set to spend the night at their neighbours' down the hall in the capable hands of Mrs. " _one child more or less hardly makes a difference_ " Wilson.

It was with no little trepidation that May arrived at Jade's apartment a short while later, loud music already greeting her on the stairs.

"You May-de it!" Jade threw open the door and was collapsing into giggles, as if it were the first time she'd come up with that terrible line. "Come in, come in!"

Her myriad of tiny braids almost slapped May in the face as she twirled back around, her good cheer infectious. 

"You've got to meet my friend," Jade insisted, taking May's hand and helping her traverse the room without stepping on any of the clothes that were strewn across every available surface. In the kitchen nook, another woman was fully focused on mixing drinks, apparently from a recipe in the open book before her. Tall, thin and freckled, she blew a loose strand of coppery red hair from her face before adding a wedge of pineapple to each glass and turning around to offer her concoction.

"May, meet Pepper, an old friend from college who's crashing here while she's looking for her own place. Pepper just started her internship at Stark Industries and I kid you not, her first assignment was to learn how to make the perfect French Martini." Jade accepted one of the glasses and May dutifully took the second. "Pepper, this is my friend May. I love her to pieces. Our mission tonight is to get her laid."

"Nice to meet you, May," Pepper smiled, raising her own glass and clinking it with the other two. " _À la vôtre._ "

  
  


_Ostentatious_. It was the only word May could think of that came even close to describing the exaggerated glitz greeting them as the three ladies entered the large ballroom. 

While on the surface it was a fundraiser for some charitable cause or another, it was quite obvious that above all else, this was a weapon's manufacturer throwing around their money for no other reason than their own self-importance. On any other night, May would have refused to go on pacifistic principle alone, but she'd missed the opportunity to be her own person for too long. As a newly minted Stark employee, Pepper was the only one of them with a genuine invitation, but with necklines down and hemlines up, none of the doormen gave a second thought to admitting all three of them - it was precisely that kind of party. The bar was free and the music not at all bad but May was aware that even if all of the above had been terrible, she'd still be enjoying herself. After all, for once she was acting her age and only responsible for herself.

Freedom gave her more of a buzz than the few alcoholic drinks. 

She danced with Jade, followed by a random guy, then Jade again. Once even Pepper joined her for a spell. It was soon apparent however, that the other woman had a tight grip on keeping up appearances, sticking to water more often than not and making sure she was never seen in anything but an entirely respectable state.

A murmur went through the crowd when, around the time that the party had reached its zenith, the opposite of respectable entered the fray.

The young heir to the Stark Industries empire was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of sycophants and simpering admirers. Some said he was a genius, but to May, he looked just like any other wealthy playboy fresh out of the glossy papers and she couldn't see the appeal. 

It was getting late. May was no longer used to spending this much time in high heels, much less dance in them as much as she had, and she gratefully took the opportunity to take a seat at the bar when it presented itself. She was fidgeting to find a comfortable position on the high stool without accidentally flashing the whole room when somebody addressed her from behind. 

"Hi there. Can I buy you a drink?" 

She slowly spun around only to find herself face-to-face with none other than Tony Stark himself. 

"I don't think you can, actually," she replied with polite disinterest, "it's a free bar."

"Not to get philosophical on you on this night devoted to entertainment and possibly varying degrees of debauchery, but is anything in life really 'free'?" He offered her an objectively handsome smile while his hand sketched lazy air quotes. "Leaving the metaphorical cost of life aside for a minute, I'm going to argue that as for this particular bar - the entire shindig, even - I'm footing the bill. Hence, if we were to be pedantic, I'd point out that I am, in fact, the _only_ person here who _can_ buy you a drink tonight." He indicated the glass in her hand with a sly wink. "Or, to be even more nitpicky, that you already accepted me buying you _that_ drink, so: you're welcome."

May laughed, grudgingly admitting to herself that she couldn't argue with his special brand of logic. "Point well made," she admitted, raising her drink in a toast and taking a sip. "Thank you."

"Bah, don't mention it. I'm generous that way. Modest, too. Out of curiosity: what am I buying you?" He hailed the bartender for a drink of his own. May noticed that the man, quite aware of who was calling on him, hurried over much faster than for her earlier order.

"Water, actually, right now."

"Oh wow, I'm skimping out on you. I- Wow. That's just tragic. Happy," he commented over his shoulder to a heavyset man in a dark, nondescript suit who had been unobtrusively hovering, "make sure it's added to tonight's list of sins so I don't forget to properly flagellate myself next time I happen to feel a little Catholic around the edges." 

"Sure thing, Boss," Suit said, so seriously that May was laughing again despite her best efforts. 

Stark clearly took this as a win and he leant sideways on the bar, studying her face with a faint smile of his own. 

"Garçon! Two French Martinis!" he ordered, with visible delight.

 _Oh well,_ May thought, _maybe just the one drink._

  
  


**_Roughly one and a half decades later..._ **

The walnut-date concoction in his mouth seemed to become more, not less, the longer Tony was chewing it. As far as food went, this wasn't desirable, but it did buy some valuable seconds to reconsider his previous plan of lying to some supposedly frumpy Aunt and making off for Germany with a new, unexpected wildcard in his tragically depleted deck of super people. 

It wasn't very covert, this stalling technique, as the deadly innocent way May was smiling at him between sips of tea made abundantly clear. Tony made a mental note to have FRIDAY check whether he could trace her to a certain, now defunct, KGB division that used to specialize in this type of operative.

With a fortifying sip of tea, he schooled his features into a mask of polite but detached interest. The sudden tightness gripping his insides had little to do with the dried fruit bar. 

"He's not my kid, is he?" he asked conversationally.

"No." 

May's expression was mostly hidden by her own comically large mug. What kind of person invented such clownish mugs? Better even: what kind of person _bought_ such brightly coloured atrocities?! Was this really the thing to be focusing on right now? Probably not. But Tony's mind had a tendency to work faster, not slower, when he was stressed. 

"Boy's a genius, so that would check out..." he continued, outwardly calm.

"He is, but still no," May replied. "Other people can be geniuses, you know. You're not _that_ special." 

She comfortably tucked her legs under herself, visibly unconcerned by the celebrity billionaire superhero on her couch. Tony was spectacularly out of his depth. 

"Oh, I am _so very_ special," he argued.

"Yes, you are." 

"Wait, you say that like I shouldn't take it as a compliment." Was she flirting with him?

"Because you are special _and_ a genius." Yep. Definitely flirting. 

May offered him a plate. "More date loaf?" 

Tony was about to go right back to making terrible puns about dates and even more terrible _decisions_ about the other kind of dates, too, when they heard a key turning in the lock. Scooting a more respectable distance apart, he listened as the original reason for his visit, the Spider-Boy, came rambling in, saving him from fully testing just how well his unexpected return to bachelorhood still fit.

**Author's Note:**

> _I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee  
>  Clouds in my coffee, and_
> 
> _You're so vain  
>  You probably think this song is about you_  
> (Carly Simon)
> 
> (The _[French Martini](https://www.diffordsguide.com/cocktails/recipe/798/french-martini)_ , also known as _Flirtini_ was a very popular cocktail in the 1990s. It consists of Vodka, black raspberry liqueur and pineapple juice. Traditionally it is served in a triangular Martini glass with a wedge of pineapple on the rim.)


End file.
